


Teacher’s Pet

by Intruality_Overlord



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Logan is 27/28, M/M, Misogyny, Patton is 17/18, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Harassment, Teacher-Student Relationship, technically non-con, they get together when Patton turns 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intruality_Overlord/pseuds/Intruality_Overlord
Summary: TW: Bullying/abuse, homophobia, the f slur, misogyny, sexual harassment
Relationships: Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	Teacher’s Pet

**Author's Note:**

> You saw the title. I know it’s questionable okay leave me alone if you’re just gonna complain about it. I’m perfectly aware (and so is Logan—).
> 
> This is quite an old fic by now (by my standards meaning my writing has improved a lot I think since I wrote this), but I’m just archiving everything here, moving it from Wattpad so yeah. Welp I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> (That does *not* mean I am not still open to criticism though btw.)

Mondays.

Patton loves and hates Mondays.

On one hand, school starts again. He genuinely enjoys his classes, and although not doing particularly well in all of them, he tries his absolute hardest.

On the other hand, school starts again. Patton's problem with school is the bullies, and the entire school seems to loathe him unconditionally.

Except for one person. That's what happens when you're the teacher's pet.

**Slap!**

A loud strike cut through the chatter of the class as Mr. Sanders whacked the whiteboard with a ruler. "Today class, you will all be writing a piece of creative writing of your choice," he explained quickly. "All of you," he added, glaring at the chairs behind Patton where his bullies sat. "I will not tolerate any unnecessary noise or there will be consequences," he growled. "You are permitted to write anything as long as it is appropriate. "Wow" me."

Patton gasped quietly, inspiration immediately striking him. Scribbling furiously, Patton quickly wrote down as many ideas as possible. Words poured endlessly from his brain to the page. He nearly ripped the book in his enthusiasm.

Mr. Sanders surveyed the classroom. There were a couple grumbles, but otherwise everything was quiet. That and the excited scratches of pencil on paper coming from the desk of his star student. Sitting at his desk, he got to work on grading last week's homework. Patton's fast writing was consistent in the background. Mr. Sanders couldn't help the small grin that wriggled it's way onto his features which he flusteredly hid behind his hand. Glancing between his work and Patton, he made sure the class was behaving.

Almost silent snickers trickled into Patton's ears from the girls around him. He heard a piece of paper being ripped from a book followed by the flick of the paper when it was passed around. "Wait wait wait, I'm a fucking genius. I got an idea," one of them hissed to the others who all giggled. Hunching over, Patton subconsciously braced himself, his writing slowing to a halt.

A paper plane hit the back of his head. Patton tried to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him despite knowing nothing good would come from it. Tentatively picking up the plane, he unfolded it. It seemed to be the note they were passing back and forth.

do you think mr sanders is married

of course he is all the teachers are

but he never wears a ring like everyone else

i saw him with his wife at a parent teacher interview tho

i thought that was his sister

ew gross they kissed

you know whats even more gross

what

i heard that hes a fag

maybe thats why he doesnt wear the ring

its disgusting

i know right

what if that means hes a pedo too

omg he is he always looks at that geek weird

omg he does that's why the nerd is passing we all know hes useless

no wonder his mom disowned him

yeah i wouldve gotten an abortion if i was that whore

i bet the teachers pet is into it

duh he takes after his slut mom

Tears quickly gathered in his eyes, his throat burning. Patton read over his own writing so far. Hastily, he yanked the page from his book and crumpled it into a stress ball of sorts. Red filled his complexion in embarrassment and shame. He couldn't've handed that in anyway.

He suddenly didn't feel so good.

Mr. Sanders looked up from his work yet again, frowning at the sight. He hadn't heard anything, but sure enough they had found yet another way to be cruel and Patton was reduced to tears yet again. Dragging a hand down his face, he sighed in defeat.

He made his way to Patton's desk. "What's going on here?" The girls just pretended to be working. He crouched down spotting the notes and Patton's scrunched up writing.

"Don't act like you're not responsible for this," Mr. Sanders said coldly, yet his gaze burned into the bullies. "But Sir we were being quiet like you asked," one whined. "Are you sure? This indeed looks like a loud cry for attention to me. After school detention, you three," he said.

"Patton?" The boy in question curled up more. He had to resist lifting his chin or the urge to hug the hurting boy, especially in front of everyone. "Stay after class, please," he said softly, a comforting hand on his shoulder, "you're not in trouble I promise," he whispered. Then he went back to his desk, both ripped pages in hand.

Patton didn't feel motivated to do much the rest of class, but at least he could muster a small smile.

~•~

Students stampeded out the room. Patton stood to head to the teacher's desk but was knocked around like a pinball. Mr. Sanders rushed to his side when the crowd left him behind. "Are you okay Pat?" He said, kneeling down. "Y-Yeah," he whimpered. Gently, he hauled Patton up from the ground by his forearms. He stumbled forwards into the teacher's chest. "Woah, I got you," he laughed softly. Suddenly, the seventeen-year-old burst into tears. Handfuls of the teacher's shirt were balled in his hands. Sobs shook his frame and all Mr. Sanders could think to do was wrap his strong arms around Patton.

One arm supported Patton while he pulled a chair up to his desk with the other. He sat Patton down on it. When they pulled away, a huge wet patch had soaked through Mr. Sanders shirt. He didn't care. Hidden behind Mr. Sanders desk was a cabinet where he kept a coffee machine and a few mugs. Recently, he also added hot cocoa. "Would you like something to drink Patton? Maybe a hot chocolate would satisfy?" He asked nicely. "O-okay," he sniffled.

They sat across from each other. Mr. Sanders inspected Patton's writing first. In his peripheral, he could see Patton nervously fidgeting and taking tiny sips of his drink. As usual, he got swept up in his story, even if he only got through two paragraphs. "Your writing is as gorgeous as ever," the teacher couldn't smother his proud smile. "But—"

"No buts. You could write about a trash can and convince me it is the most beautiful artefact in existence with your words if you so pleased," that made Patton blush furiously. When Mr. Sanders read over the paper plane however, his grin was wiped clean off. He groaned, "Would it seriously kill them to use punctuation," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Patton giggled weakly at that.

"From tomorrow forward you will sit in front of my desk instead. I will make another new seating plan and put those three bullies of yours in the very back of the class. I am sorry Patton, I wish I could do more outside of class. I really do..."

The bell ending lunch rang.

"I should go to my next class..."

"I'll write you a late pass, don't worry."

The pair stood awkwardly for a moment before Patton launched himself into Mr. Sanders welcoming arms yet again. Fingers combed through Patton's mop of chestnut hair, untangling the delicate fibers.

"Listen to me," the teacher said sternly. "I know what you are going through; all the rumours and secrets being spread, everyone nit picking every single flaw, that to someone else they would perhaps consider endearing," he sighed. Patton craned his neck up, chin still resting on his chest. He fixed his crooked glasses, even if it looked too cute as it was. "Do not let people's words influence you. You may be experiencing horrible emotions or maybe a lack of emotion entirely. Trust me when I say you are wonderful. Do not consider the possibility of any of their falsehoods having any true worth. You deserve far more than a cookie cutter life you do not desire," He rose an eyebrow at the boy. "Just one year left, please do not give up yet, okay?" He searched the teenagers warm brown eyes.

"Yes sir."

"Don't call me sir," his ears turned pink.

He giggled, "Sorry Mr. Sanders."

~•~

"Sorry Mr. Sanders, but this is crazy talk," the principal said, "We don't have a bullying problem in our christian school," he said confidently. Leaning back on his chair creaking pitifully from his weight, he crossed his arms. He narrowed his leer at Mr. Sanders and his burly unibrow drew together, folding in the middle. It was like all the hair on his head migrated there.

"Have you got a screw loose?!" Mr. Sanders exclaimed. "The cruelty and bullying culture in this school is absolutely ridiculous we need to do something about this! Students like Patton—" The principal rolled his soulless stone eyes, "—are a perfect example of the effect this bullying behaviour has. He's practically a prodigy child but he hasn't had the chance to unlock his full potential in other subjects because of the environment. This whole school is plagued with ignorance and it's ruining our reputation as a respectable school," Mr. Sanders angrily rambled, throwing his hands around in ridiculous gestures as if to help his argument.

"Watch your tongue, Sanders. This obsessive behaviour over this student is going to get you fired or worse," the Principal threatened. "But Patton isn't the only one. He is only the first example I could think of. I hate seeing our pupils practically at war with each other. There needs to be stricker systems to straighten up their behavior!" He couldn't comprehend his complete denial of the truth.

"Get out of my office before I fire you Mr. Sanders," he gritted out, eyes squinting down at him, and his bald scalp glinting dangerously.

_"Fine."_

Muttering curses, he slammed the door behind him. As much as he wanted to help, he couldn't risk pushing it too much. What help could he be unemployed?

~•~

Rain poured down, wind whipped through his hair, clouds swirled above wildly, but the weather couldn't match the storm brewing in his head.

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

_It is wrong._

These thoughts pelted his brain, flooding his skull and overflowing, trickling into his heart. It made it weigh down heavily, reluctant to keep pumping. Water soaked through his shoes where his small umbrella couldn't protect him. He nearly tripped in his haste to the comfort of his car.

_It is wrong._

But then he spotted him.

_It is wrong._

At the entrance of the school, he sat next to the bus bay completely drenched. No vehicle or other people were in sight. His hunched figure let the rain abuse his back while he sat cross legged on the pebble sidewalk. Every so often he would shiver violently.

_It is wrong._

When the army of droplets stopped biting his back, he looked up curiously. His eyes were bloodshot. It complimented the warmth of his irises, weirdly. "Patton? What are you doing here," He said. Sharing his small umbrella wasn't at all practical. Instead, he held it over Patton, hissing at the sudden cold. The teacher picked him up, supporting him. Patton felt numbingly cold to the touch, yet his face was alight. "I missed my bus," Patton mumbled.

_It is wrong._

"Come on then, it might start hailing," He sighed. Leading him by the wrist, he lead Patton to his car. At some point he slipped his hand into Mr. Sanders's who didn't notice. By the time they reached the car, the teacher's bones were waterlogged. Meanwhile, Patton had started drying off. "Quickly," the teacher usher him in.

_It is wrong._

A moment of silence stretch out between them before Logan spoke up. "How did you miss your bus?" He said, though already having his suspicions. Patton just hung his head, fidgeting. "Please tell me Patton," he sighed softly. Carefully, he leaned over the gearshift to hold one of the seventeen year old's hands. It sent a fuzzy spark between them, like a static shock. Screwing his eyes shut, Patton just lifted his shirt a bit. Dark bruises were already forming in huge splotches. His jaw slaked.

_It is wrong._

He didn't know what possessed him, but he leaned further over to the passenger seat and his hands flew to Patton's stomach. His fingers glided across the injury, his touch as light as a feather, while he inspected the damage. He winced, but lifted his shirt further to show the full damage. They littered his whole abdomen, like purple paint had spilt all over them, and a couple splatters had also landed on his lower ribs. When his touch grazed over the area, Patton's breath hitched sharply.

_It is wrong._

Looking up, their eyes immediately locked. His were so rich and deep, like polished bocote wood. Somewhere, buried in there was starved hope and happiness begging to be rekindled. Patton searched the colder irises that stared at him so intensely. He saw pain, guilt, shame and...something else the blood rushing to the teacher's cheeks gave away. "I'm sorry—"

_It is wrong._

_"It is not your fault."_

_But so right._

Just as Logan felt his heart slowing down from the saddening weight, it suddenly accelerated, jumping erratically. Their bodies gravitated towards each other. Shared breath floated between them, fanning their flaming complexions. Patton and Logan leaned ever so closely, yet when only millimeters away, the teacher jerked back.

_Yet so so wrong._

"I'm sorry. I-I..." his throat closed up. Defeatedly, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Shame completely overwhelmed him, overflowing and trickling down in the form of a single tear.

In Patton's world, he had felt like he was floating from bright balloons tied to him by his heartstrings. Stone eyes shattered like ice in front of him, the shards popping every balloon, and he came plummeting down. He couldn't help the disappointed, hurt whimper that left him.

"Forget this ever happened," Mr. Sanders said finally. Patton just blinked for a moment: he couldn't comprehend the situation. "We're seriously going to ignore everything that's been going on between us?!" Patton gaped, his eyes burning. "Yes. We are," he said sternly staring into his soul with bloodshot eyes that dared him to argue.

He dared.

"Y-you're kidding me right? I thought—... I thought you cared about me. You made me think at least one f-freaking person cared. You can't j-just rip that away from me!" He cried, his chest ached and his stomach dropped. Instinctively, Patton dug his nail into his arms trying to cling onto a reality he didn't belong in, no matter how delusional. "No stop that," the teacher told him. Quickly, he took the boy's hands into his own. "None of that, please," he muttered, "the last scars only just faded."

"Wh...why?" His voice cracked pathetically. "It's not right, for goodness sake! You're too young. Maybe when you're eighteen, but I-I'm married!"

"You don't love her," he said boldly. He bit back his tongue, jaw clenched. How could you argue with such a blatantly true statement? "...Can I at least use your first name. It feels weird to say Mr. Sanders," he meekly requested.

He huffed, "You can call me Logan...now let's get you home."

~•~

Logan once again sat hunched at his desk. No students had come in yet since school didn't start in another hour. Recently, he's been working as hard as possible in an attempt to distract himself. Now, he had grown to regret his decision to work last night as now he had no work currently. No excuse to ignore the student whose seat is right in front of him. Logan needed to brush up on his problem avoiding skills.

He checked the calendar again, still not believing the day had snuck up on him so quickly. February 14th. This morning, Logan had snuck to school early to avoid his nagging wife.

"Happy birthday," he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Flinching, he turned around quickly being met with Patton and a small uncertain smile. He held out a small bouquet of green carnations, wrapped in blue cellophane, at arm's length. Quivers lightly shook the petals of the blossoms. Gingerly, Logan took the flowers with a smile he couldn't deny. "Thankyou..."

"Y-you're welcome," Patton hastily sat in his spot taking out his equipment. "No happy Valentine's Day?" Logan asked him, honestly shocked and confused, who looked down to hide his blush. "I thought your birthday is more important," he said quietly, "I don't really want to think about it."

"Neither do I," he agreed. Logan quickly rummaged through his cabinet and pulled out a larger mug he placed the green carnations in. Plucking one carnation out, he tucked the stem into his shirt pocket. He took his seat. "Really, Patton, I truly appreciate this," he said earnestly. Gaze downcast, Patton face flooded pink and in his attempt to not play with his fingers, he unconsciously swung his legs. He accidentally nudged Logan's foot and jumped. His eyes flicked up.

Breath hitching, his eye landed on the smirk shaping Logan's features. Patton's foot was nudged back. He gasped. Logan just leaned on his desk and nudged him again, making him laugh. Soon they got into a foot fight trying to trap the other's feet under their own. Sharing their breath, they leaned closer putting their body weight on the desks, giving their feet more mobility. The teacher had one foot under his. Tongue poking out in concentration, giggles poured out of the seventeen year old, and little shrieks when he nearly got caught like the rising sun in his iris. God he was so beautiful.

_Snap out of it._

Then Patton got an idea. First, he made sure their eyes were glued. His laughing settled and he made his expression more serious, though, a tiny grin was still present. Sneakily, he kicked off the shoe and sock on his free foot. Logan was caught off guard. Bare skin brushed up his against his leg, lifting up his pant hem. Before he could breathe again, Patton snatched his foot from beneath his, and trapped both of his.

"I win!" Patton threw his hands up in victory.

"I let you win," Logan huffed humorously. "Sure you did," he said, quite pleased with himself. "And your pupils are so big because...?" Patton commented smugly, resting his chin on his elbow.

**Squeak!** Cringing hinges of the classroom door made their fantasy crumble.

When the other teenager came in, the two rushed to back away, Patton falling backwards off his chair with a thud.

But they both quickly recovered and pretended nothing had happened like usual. The bell rang and more followed. Students filed in slowly, the chatter and chaos rising. Logan let the students continue their work from the day before. Although he doubted they actually were with all the talking yet he couldn't find the energy to quiet them.

Him and Patton kept sharing glances with each other. They just couldn't keep their eyes off one another.

It made both's stomachs knot, suffocating all the frightened, struggling butterflies.

~•~

Browsing through the various arrangements, Logan sifted through possible candidates. Potent perfumes abused his senses, along with the loud yellow and red sale signs lying to his face. The prices double this time of year, not half. Despite not returning feelings for his wife, Natalie, he still wanted to please her in order to keep his conscience in check.

And stop her from complaining over an overall meaningless holiday with a hideous origin that only serves to practically rob people and remind lonely people of their loneliness. Logan may be no expert, but that must not be healthy for your mental state (or your bank account).

Consistently, Logan found himself drawn to the many bouquets of yellow, especially the yellow tulips. If he remembered correctly, yellow tulips meant "hopelessly in love". He found it fitting when, despite popular belief, yellow was Patton's favourite colour. Yellow and pink: he can be indecisive. Logan shook his head. He was here to buy Natalie, his wife, flowers and chocolates, not Patton... unfortunately.

Getting back on task, he browsed a little longer before giving up and just picking a random reasonably priced arrangement. He double checked it had red roses (as they were her favourite) then bought them along with some chocolates.

The drive home was torturous. Logan absolutely dreaded stepping foot in that mine field yet again. On a day like this, he could only brace himself for the worst. Parking in the driveway, he had to take a moment to gather himself. Why has it felt more and more plain wrong every time he came home?

He finally managed to drag himself to the door, rattling the keys in the doorknob and opening it with one hand. As soon as the door was open, glossy lips attacked his own.

"Happy Valentine's day! What did you get me?" She gushed excitedly. Logan was completely stunned. Lip gloss was smeared on his lips, tasting the repulsively sweet...strawberry? He couldn't tell. "Hello to you too, Natalie," Logan said blankly, holding out the flowers and chocolates. She grimaced, "They're not as pretty as last year," she whined. "I apologise. I still do not have a sense for... these things."

"Well I know how you could make it up to me, honeybunch," Natalie smirked, leaning in close. Claws trailed up his shoulders, his neck, and racked up his gelled hair. Logan's expression remained blank. Natalie leaned ever closer, not noticing him hesitantly back up. "What better way to celebrate another Valentine's than getting started on that little family you promised me," she whispered in his ear with a gravelly voice Logan could only guess was supposed to be "sexy". In reality, it sounded like she just smoked one too many cigarettes. Teeth grazed his earlobe, making his stomach churn. Acid bubbled up his throat like a boiling geyser.

Blood rushed through his system, heart pounding like a limping horse. Quickly, Logan dodged around his wife setting the presents on the dining table which he nearly dropped with his shaky hands. "I-Isn't this enough for today?"

"C'mon baby, we haven't had any fun in months and months," she nagged. Hoping to release the tension, she began massaging his shoulders, ironically making him tense further. "I had a tiring day at work," he tried. "Then I'll do all the work for you," she teased, taking the opportunity to latch on and nibble his ear. Logan just cringed. Thinking they had won him over, she started dragging him by the tie to the bedroom.

They collapsed on the bed, Natalie climbing on top straight away and crashing their lips together forcefully. She tried prying Logan's lips open, only then, Logan shoved her off. He sat bolt upright. "I don't feel like it Natalie!" He repeated, keeping her at arm's length. She rolled her eyes. "What's up with you? You're acting so childish like I'll give you cooties! We're married! Grow up, be a man," she complained. She grasped desperately at Logan's polo, fiddling with the green flower. "You're all dressed up and everything too! You can't tell me you don't wants this," she carried on spouting nonsense.

"I'm not in the mood, okay?! Take a hint! Leave me alone, please," Logan ripped himself away, careful of the carnation. "P-please," his voice cracked quietly, scrambling away on trembling legs. Natalie groaned, "But baby! It's Valentine's! I know you're, like, all serious business, but can't you let down your walls for once in your fucking life?"

"Can you think about anyone other than yourself for once in your fucking life?" He snapped. Glaring half-hearted, blunt daggers at her, he straighten out his disheveled clothes. His wife flopped backwards on her back in a star shape and whined, throwing a pity party. "I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight. The top draw can keep you company."

With that he stormed out. He scoffed, _"Happy birthday to me."_

Logan just wanted Patton with him: Patton gave the best hugs.

He bolted to the bath. He was going to thoroughly brushed his teeth after that.

After triple checking... quadruple checking the door was indeed locked, he calmed down enough to shove his toothbrush in his mouth with steady-ish hands. The toothbrush bristles were rough on his tongue as he attempted scraping away the plastic taste. Minty paste drenched the toothbrush still between his teeth, Logan stepped into the shower.

The mirror stared at him whilst he got ready to shower, but he avoided eye contact. He refused to recognise the shameful creature through the glass. Getting undressed, he left the delicate green carnation beside the basin. He turned the shower onto the highest temperature. Blood rushed beneath the surface of his boiling skin. Maybe if the water was hot enough he could sterilise himself. He continued brushing his teeth in the shower.

Steaming water drained into his porous skin for a good, numbing hour before he even considered leaving. He continued to avoided the gaze of the mirror entirely and just got dressed. He gently placed the green carnation back into his pajama shirt pocket.

When night rolled around, Logan couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning, his muscles groaned and complained. The taste of cheap, manufactured fruit-like flavouring lingering on his lips still overpowered the toothpaste he practically chugged. He felt dirty. Logan tossed his restless body over again in a fruitless attempt to feel comfortable. Hard wood floors met his face. He was just a jumble of bones with a cold soup of thoughts sloshing in his brain.

Clearly, he wasn't getting any rest. Throwing a coat over his pajamas, he collected himself, and the box of chocolates greedy Natalie surely wouldn't _really_ miss, and headed out the door. He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to be as far away as possible.

He kept his eyes to the ground and watched his shoes tap on the pavement as he walked aimlessly. The breeze that washed past him took his swirling thoughts with them, leaving his mind blank. His legs started to ache slightly before he finally looked up to see where he was going.

He found himself near a park with a small old playground at the base of a reasonably sized hill in the center of the park. Evergreen trees and early flowering bushes carpeted the peek as if the hill was wearing a crown. The foliage made it so you couldn't see what was up there. Logan decided to indulge in his curiosity with nothing better to do. He didn't plan on going back anytime soon, so he began the short climb.

Nearing the peek, the trees started to thin until he found himself in a little clearing. The opening was a micro climate. There was a pocket of warm air resting in a still, calm state like time had stopped to admire the surrounding vibrant flowers. From here, it felt as if you were closer to the stars glimmering above. Like you could reach out and pluck them from the navy backdrop.

Then he noticed the small hunched figure sat at the top. Curled up hugging their legs, they shivered and shuddered.

Then he realised it was just who he wanted to see.

"Salutations, Patton," Logan greeted quietly, trying not to startle him. Patton's head snapped up from it's perching spot on his knees. His eyes were clouded with fear until he recognised the teacher. Then the clouds of terror dissipated and Logan could see the concoction of negativeness painted over his brown-hazel iris.

"Hi," Patton said meekly. Patting the grass beside him, he invited Logan to sit with him which he gladly did. Shoulders slumping, he rested his head back on his knees and drew his legs in closer. Wordlessly, Logan slipped one arm out of it's sleeve, shuffled closer, and wrapped it around the shivering boy. "Thankyou," he whispered, and immediately clung to Logan's waist.

"You're in pjs?" He asked, tilting his head. "Yes. I was planning on getting a full, night's rest, but _I couldn't sleep_ so I thought I'd go on a quick walk. I could not be bothered to change," he explained. Patton, even more confused, said, "And... you're wearing a tie?"

"...I like neckties."

Patton babbled delightful giggles that came in tiny bursts like bubbles popping. But the laughter was short lived with the pressure of his heavy thoughts. He snuggled further into Logan's sides as if he could hide from the thoughts looming over him.

"Why are you out here?" Logan asked gently. Patton fidgeted with his tie, winding it around his fingers. _"I couldn't sleep either,"_ he said simply. The frown in his voice was all too obvious, but Logan just held him closer and said, "It's nice up here..." He readjusted the coat to make sure it covered Patton properly. "...Do you come here often?" He asked. "Yeah..."

"Maybe I should too..."

Silence followed. Logan searched through his coat pockets, pulled out the chocolates, and wordlessly offered half to Patton. He took it gratefully and proceeded to all but inhale the chocolate goodness. No words were needed, they were perfectly content finding comfort in just being together, munching away. Though eventually, they had to part ways.

"Bye, Logan," Patton said, giving Logan one last hug. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Logan fussed. Patton rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "I'll be fine, Logan," he repeated. "You'll freeze, Pat," Logan insisted. He shrugged off his coat and put in on Patton and wrapped him up like a little burrito. "Promise you'll be safe?"

"I do this all the time, Lo! I'll see you tomorrow," He said over his shoulder, already walking away.

Logan sighed. "Okay, goodnight, I— whoops"

~•~

Yet again another boring day at school, students' disorganised babbles nursing headaches in the heads of the few sane people left. Logan has long since given up on disciplining his class. If they want to fail at life itself, that's their decision.

Patton was once again scribbling away, watching his story fold out in front of him. New ideas piled on him making Patton accelerate in his excitement for the ending. Though every now that then, he got distracted by the spectrum of orange leaves gracefully falling and forming piles hiding the grass around the tree trunks. The trees were nearly skeletons, their branches plain to see in their twisting, haphazard design.

Logan smiled, blocking out the commotion and just focusing on the person in front of him. His tongue stuck out in concentration, grin shimmering just like his eyes. How his gaze flicked to the window occasionally.

The teacher looked behind him, just to double check everything is relatively orderly, and saw a bit of commotion in the back corner.

**Woosh!**

A paper dart dashed across the room aimed at Patton. Logan swiftly pushed Patton's head down out the way and caught the dart. Eyes narrow, he flung it back. Patton flung his gaze back up just in time to see the bully get hit straight in the eye right in the middle of high five-ing his friend.

"Ow!" They shrieked, silencing the whole room. They flung a hand to their eye and wailed dramatically. The teacher just crossed his arms leaning back in his chair. "That's why you don't throw objects in my classrooms. Be glad I'm in a good mood or you would have another detention. Don't make me change my mind," Logan threatened monotonously with a small smirk.

"You're in a good mood, huh?" Patton whispered smugly. He had an undeniable grin. "Why wouldn't I be?" He whispered back. Shrugging, Patton played dumb. Logan quickly slipped him a note and the day went on as usual.

Meet me after sunset. You know the spot.

~•~

Carefully, Patton quietly shut the front door behind him and began the walk to the park. Though, he didn't know why he was making an effort to be discreet: his moms wouldn't care if he randomly left. They never seemed to notice when he was there, unless he went scavenging in the kitchen. Judging by the amount of times he had come home to unholy noises, they seemed to forget they didn't live alone. Patton shuddered. "They aren't bad people, just... not good parents," he would tell himself. Then he quickly dismissed the thought.

Crisp dusk air nipped at Patton's neck and legs. Ice had already formed between his tortured limbs' joints that scraped together. Sneaking out of the house was always the easy part. Climbing up this hill, however, not so much. Especially with his collection of purple, though he'd rather not focus on that. But when he caught a glimpse of Logan up ahead, it gave him the power to push forwards.

Over the year, the two had met up there many, many times. Especially during the summer break when they couldn't spend time in the classroom.

Once he got to the top, Patton noticed a checkered picnic blanket spread across the hilltop forest clearing. Logan was peering through a telescope, his glasses pocketed in his coat.

"Logan?" Patton called. Spinning around, Logan hastily slid his glasses back on. The glistening stars reflected in his lenses. "Patton— why don't you have a jacket again? It's freezing!" He scolded. "Forgot?" Patton said somewhat shyly. Shrugging off his coat, Logan draped it around his shoulders. On Patton, it was effectively a blanket that swamped him, but the heat on his cheeks wasn't from the new warmth. Checking him over, he adjusted and re-adjusted Patton's outfit, cleaning his glasses. "Logy..." he blushed harder, but he secretly loved his fussing. "Sorry swe— Pat," he mumbled. Breathing deeply, Patton could never get enough of the way Logan's huge coats and jackets draped around him drenched in the scent of his cologne enveloping him along with the heavy fabric. Wearing them felt just like Logan's hugs. And they always made his giddy smile shine.

Logan caught onto the bashful expression of delight that adorned him and shook his head playfully. "That's my last coat, Patton. I don't have any more. I don't have any jackets or jumpers either. You don't happen to know where they are?" he said smirking down at him. "Umm..." Patton ducked his head, pulling the coat closer possessively. "Well... you can have some back..." he said shyly. Logan rose an eyebrow, "Even my leather jacket?"

"No!" He said quickly. "That's my favourite!" He whined, pulling the coat even closer. "If you give me the rest back, you can have the leather jacket to add to your birthday present," Logan suggested. Patton stopped to think. "Hmm..." he bit his lip in thought in that way Logan always found endearing, "Fine." Ruffling his hair, Logan made a new pink bloom across Patton's cheeks and nose. Then his perfectionist nature got the better of him and he caressed his hair back in place. His hand lingered, obtaining a pinkish hue as well, seeing the lucid adoration in Patton's eyes.

He coughed awkwardly.

"C-come on," he brushed it off. Linking pinkies, Logan lead the birthday boy to the picnic blanket. "Stargazing is a favourite pastime of mine, and I wanted to share that with you," he explained, his blush intensifying. "So that's how you caught all the stars in your eyes..."

"Pardon?"

"N-nothing!"

Laughter joined the chirping crickets around them. Logan guided the eighteen year old to the telescope, pocketing his glasses. He sat down to eye level with the lens, and urged Patton to do the same but he had to kneel down to be be the same height. Logan searched the sky for some of his favourite stars to show Patton first. While Logan observed the sky, Patton observed the quirk of his lips, the spark in his eyes, and all his muscles shrugging off the tension.

_They're beautiful._

"Look, here," Logan excitedly pulled Patton up to the telescope, slipping his glasses off and pocketing them beside his. "Woah..." he gasped. Logan lead Patton hands on through the wonders of the observable universe. Patton felt slightly overwhelmed, but in a good way, like a cake rising in the oven more than the recipe told you to expect. He was encapsulated in the marvels of the universe. Logan rambled on, teaching him all about one of things he loved most. It made him feel humbled and small, and so did having Logan looming over him all the while. Somewhere along the line, Patton found himself sitting in between Logan's crossed legs, feeling his chest rise and fall against his back, and his arms surrounding him. He delicately directed him, one hand on his chin, the other, the telescope. His warm whispy breath swirled around him like licks of flame.

Eventually, Logan's hands dropped to rest around his waist, and Patton felt him lean back. "Isn't it just so... magnificent?" he sighed happily. Patton stared up to see him looking at the stars in utter bliss. Raw passion emanating from deep within him, gleaming through the filter of his pupils like the heat of the sun through the atmosphere.

"Yeah..."

Then Logan's gaze fell to him, and he looked at Patton just as he had the stars.

He rifled through his pant pocket briefly, pulling out a small, carefully wrapped pink box with a yellow ribbon. Inside was a pink, heart shaped analogue watch pendant with two extra dials: one showing night and day, the other showing the day of the week. Engraved on the back was a custom design of a heart with glasses. The silver chain it hung from was decorated by a collection of all Patton's favourite things in charm form: which was mostly animals and various sugary foods, plus a matching sun and moon. But mostly animals. "I know it's not much but...I hope the addition of my leather jacket can help make up for it," he said apologetically. "No, no you can keep it Logan. I was joking...mostly— but this is perfect. Thank you so so much," Patton grinned, immediately clasping it around his neck. The chain was the perfect length so it rested over his rapidly beating heart. "Happy birthday, Patton," Logan murmured.

"You know what this means right? We can be together," Patton swiveled around is his lap. "Like this," he laced their fingers together.

"Patton..." the tone was such a stark, dark contrast. Patton could suddenly feel the icy wind pinching him again. "I don't know about that," Logan said solemnly. "Are you serious?!" Patton shot to his feet and Logan followed. "I want to— I just— I just don't know if it's going to work, Pat," he tried to explain, "We have a ten year age gap," he desperately didn't want to emotionally hurt Patton in anyway. Tears wet Patton's eyelashes.

"But you said when I was eighteen! That's today!"

"I know what I said Patton. I'm sorry I—"

"If there's anything I've learnt from your rambles today," Patton blinked away the tears, "it's that we're just tiny little pieces of carbon hurtling through space that will never be worth anything in the grand scheme of things and nothing we ever do will matter in the end. So why can't we just do whatever we want? We're just an infinitesimal blink in the lifespan of just one of those beautiful flaming balls of gas. But when I look at you, I see something just as beautiful to me, and just as important to me. And I think that's something worth celebrating, don't you think?" He took Logan hands into his own, which were shaking with every crack in his voice.

Logan was speechless. His words resonate in his core like the thumping of his heart. All he could do was blink and let the tears slip free. They tumbled down his cheeks and dripped off his chin, one landing on Patton's button nose. Patton quickly swiped it away and brought one hand to Logan's cheek to dry his watering eyes. He hung his head.

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too,"_ Logan blurted, instantaneously biting his tongue and screwing his eyes shut. The way those words rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, the way they tasted so good, like chocolate melting on your tastebuds... he wasn't sure how he felt anymore outside the fact he was so in love.

"Wait— Y-you do?"

Patton tore his doe eyes from his beaten shoes. His pupils were blown out of proportion by his thundering heart pumping them up like balloons. They gravitate together, their hands desperately gasping at each other. In Logan's hold, one arm around his waist, his other hand enmeshed in Patton's hair, they shared a protective bubble of their own actuality. Their chests pressed together and Patton could feel his heart hammering in time with Logan's, like they were trying to reach each other.

Soothingly, Patton traced hearts on his damp cheeks. His other hand matched Logan's in his hair, pulling the teacher down further to nearly eye level (and Patton was already on his tiptoes). He couldn't handle another reluctant rejection and was mutely begging. He felt so fragile.

Their noses brushed in an bunny kiss. Logan's walls disintegrated.

"Yes," Logan inevitably admitted, his voice the whisper of a summer's breeze, his hands caressing Patton's jaw just as delicately, "Insanely so."

Patton yanked him down and their lips connected.

That familiar static fuzz was shared between them. It shot down their spines. The butterflies were shocked back to life free to fly. He kissed him desperately, Logan kissing back.

It was clumsy, but it was theirs.

They pulled back for breath, but it felt virtually harder to breathe apart. Patton saw his awestruck expression, his widened eyes showing his full irises glowing, his lips, tasting of coffee and mint, parted gracefully. And Logan saw his awestruck expression, him smiling so widely he couldn't see his eyes through his lashes, his jaw slaking open as he panted, pink tongue poking out. It was Patton's first kiss, and to Logan it felt like his too.

"Forgive me, please."

Logan lifted up a happily shrieking Patton, and kissed him again. And again. And again and again and again all in between laughter. They could feel the smiles on the other lips. Losing their footing, Logan flopped on his back taking Patton with him. Patton quickly picked himself up, "Are you okay—"

Logan just cupped his cheeks pulling him back down, latching onto his lips. He responded, matching the intensity. Patton could feel the desire radiating from him like his body heat. Curiously, he experimentally parted his lips without even being asked. Heart skipping, Logan slipped his tongue between his teeth. He tried to quell his excitement to be more tender. Logan's hands trailed from framing his darling's face, to his waist, Patton's coming to rest on his chest. Retreating, he encouraged Patton to have a turn to dominate. He tried it, but didn't seem to have the confidence. Separating, Patton's eyes shined down shyly like the distant stars behind them and Logan smiled the widest he had in... ever.

Their lips were swollen and would probably be bruised by tomorrow. Not that they cared. Eventually, Logan's secure hold on Patton's waist loosen, the adrenaline wearing down and the tiredness midnight brings creeping up on them. Patton tucked his head under Logan's head, snuggling up, and took handfuls of his shirt and necktie.

The forbidden fruit was divine: a delicious change from lip gloss.

...

...

...

Logan's eyes widened. "Oh my god I just cheated on my wife—"

"No, no," Patton shushed him gently, "None of that serious business right now." Patton undid Logan's tie and gave him another kiss. "We'll figure things out." He snuggled up further and adjusted the coat to blanket them better. "This is all that matters right now," he murmured, wrapping his arms around his neck so Logan's head rested on them like a pillow. Logan took a slow deep breath to calm himself, stroking his silky hair. Patton was right.

"I love you, sweetie," Logan spoke up just as their eyelids started drooping. "I love you too, sir."


End file.
